Osiryn's Legacy
by WolfPhantoms
Summary: This story follows my turian O.C Osiryn through the attack of the Citadel and the rebuilding of what the world became while Shepard went MIA.


**Well, it's been a while since the last update, but I've been a little busy since the last time I paid a visit. This story is set in the ME universe, but a focus on my OC Osiryn and his struggle with the rebuilding of the Citadel and is meant for me to flesh out all of the tiny details of his character before I set to role play him online. Enjoy!**

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He could hear the screams - the ones they couldn't reach in time. The acrid smell of burned flesh stung his senses as he pushed the crying faces behind him onward. Fires and debris reached for them with sharp jabs; increasing the injured number into the dozens as survivors were scraped and prodded.

The death toll was climbing.

Osiryn raced through the corridors with his intense gaze simply scanning each direction when they struck a intersection. Unlike most other C-Sec officers, Osiryn stood apart from the crowd like a sore thumb and had been unwillingly given the duty of leading the group out.

Such exposure before would have been ruled as disastrous and distrustful with his pure white plating treated as though it was a disease than a simple genetic disorder. He was hailed as 'the albino', a name that was scorned by all who used it. Didn't stop him from answering to it, however...

An albino turian with barely any clan markings equaled blasphemy.

Communication between the Academy and the officers out in the field had disappeared long before the first Geth was spotted sneaking through the wards and Osiryn's immediate response was to the escape shuttles in the Presidium. He had slipped into a sort of defensive role, killing Geth and snatching citizens away from the chaos that ensued soon after the first bullet echoed. Occasionally he ran into a fellow officer struggling to find organization in the confusion until he had collected a troop that worked together to escort citizens.

"They're falling behind," said an older turian, his armor pristine and marked with medals of his valor. Osiryn slowed to allow the survivors to catch up, their sobs of pain and horror mingled with the weakened coughs and gags of those dying. The albino's red gaze narrowed as he met the officer's challenging stare and with slight reluctance, released the leadership role over to him by merely shifting his gaze away.

"It's a jumbled mass of hysteria and pain," Osiryn insisted, his chest constricting as the officer shrugged. The roar of the nearby fires drowned out his comment to the others, but he would rather waste his breath running than having a tired conversation.

"Those not strong enough to survive don't deserve our pity," the turian remarked, motioning to the other officers - human and turian alike- to surround him in a slight huddle. The survivors eased around them, some of them collapsing to their knees while others panted for air to ease past their lips. All sorts of alien skins and all of them supporting each other in the times of crises.

Osiryn was amazed at such a union, especially with his work at C-Sec mainly independent from other officers. When Pallin had offered the position that frightening day in the turian's office, Osiryn knew the pleas from his family were jumbled with his records. They needed him to gain honor away from the clan and as soon as Pallin agreed, he immediately disowned his past- not because of previous actions, but due to the fear his features created.

His work began as a student needing a teacher and many officers bucked at the thought of having him serve under them until Pallin simply "sent him elsewhere". The independence soon became something he enjoyed even if the tasks were menial and unworthy to others. Everyone had to start somewhere and he was unlucky enough to start on the bottom.

"You," the turian motioned two human officers closer. "Cover our backs. Make sure the Geth aren't tracking us." As expected, his cold calculating gaze gauged Osiryn before waving at to the crowd of citizens.

"I've heard of your observation skills, albino," he said casually and Osiryn bristled, unsure how to effectively reply to the comment. "Make sure the group stays together. I'll lead from now on."

Osiryn nodded, slowly slipping in and out through the mass of exhausted bodies behind the turian. There was no way to argue without the authority to do so and Osiryn had learned well enough to accept his lower class tier. Mothers clutched their children possessively, crying into their small frames to hide their tears, but looked up with puffy eyes to watch him daintily step by. Injuries were frequent and bloody with all different colors catching the light of nearby blazes.

It was a sign of the dying and the exhausted.

"We need to keep moving," the turian bellowed, breaking through the thick wall of despair to the collective ears around him. Osiryn paused in his watch to look up and study the broad shoulders sitting tersely on the turian officer. He met the albino's gaze for a brief glance before heading down a new corridor at a brisk walk to avoid the licking flames and the charred bodies of the less fortunate.

The citizens were quick to their feet even through the struggling first steps to resume their flight. Osiryn stood against the mass of bodies pushing their way through to get to safety and he waited until the few picking up the rear were left for him to press on.

"Waitin' for me?"

She was small, almost petite, but he knew enough about humans to be aware that she was near adulthood for their kind. Her green eyes gauged him beneath the tangled curls of red hair as she sat, hunched over on the brittle remains of the floor tiles.

"We need to keep moving," He insisted, approaching with a stern frown. Humans were notorious for being lazy and he had heard enough stories to remain wary in their presence. They had no sense of honor in their culture... none that he had actually witnessed at least and he secretly pitied their loss. Without honor, how was one to live?

Her legs remained tucked beneath her and, as he grew closer, he spotted the pool of blood staining her clothing and the tile where she had collapsed.

"I know," she sighed and the cheer drained from her voice as she looked down to study the reddening cloth of one leg. "Don't worry, I'll catch up," she continued and without glancing in his direction, she waved him away with a flick of the hand.

Osiryn knew that she wouldn't last very long if he left her, especially with Geth crawling over their prize with unyielding energy. It barely registered to him that he should focus on duty over heroism, but why couldn't the two work hand in hand? One was supposed to accept his place in the tiers and the society around it, but here was a situation that taunted his values.

"You're injured," he stated blandly, kneeling down in front of her to catch her bowed gaze. Still, he kept his distance with some effort. Part of him wished to leave, pulling her along, but he was well aware of the consequences.

"You noticed," she snorted, her smile veiled by a halo of hair and dirt. "I got caught on one of the fallen beams," she explained, her voice much softer than the sarcastic dry of before.

Calculating. It always ended in calculating. She wore a torn up working uniform meant for heavy labor than the frilly dresses the more prestigious women of the courts normally donned. It would be easy to replace and probably held no personal value to the redhead. Perfect.

His taloned fingers curved into the material and even through the thick gloves of his C-Sec armor, he managed to rip the pant leg with a few tilts of a wrist. She made no complaint to the sudden destruction of her clothes besides the startled gasp, but he had been expecting the reaction long before he made the move to get closer.

Wrapping a firm grip around her ankle, he slowly maneuvered the injured leg up and out from beneath her weight and she quickly caught herself from flailing backwards with another soft grunt.

"Gentle is not your middle name," she retorted, leaning back on her palms as he slipped the pieces of cloth around the oozing gash. Her pale face twisted as she watched him carefully wrap up the injury before her eyes widened as she caught him stiffen.

His breath hitched as he twisted the pieces into a knot to form a quick and less than efficient tourniquet above the injury. The flesh of her leg trembled against the pressure and she cried out at the pain before reaching for him. Osiryn dodged the fumbled attempt to swat him away and with a few more jerked movements, finished the knot and retreated from her reach.

"You're an ass," she seethed with one tensed hand clutching at the injury while the other remained supportive. "Next time, warn me when you decide to-"

The albino stood rigid, his ears straining for a repeat performance to verify what he heard. Though he had little to no experience dealing with the Geth like others on the Citadel, the little noises that were often heard still bothered him. He sensed the girl staring at him and he was silently grateful for her response.

"What do you hear?" She asked softly, her brow furrowing as she attempted to listen for anything odd. If the situation had been different, Osiryn would have laughed. Humans lived with very little hearing capabilities to begin with, but trying to hear what a _turian_ heard would be a complete impossibility.

Osiryn tilted his head and clenched his jaw as he heard it again. This time, he was certain it wasn't debris shifting or the fire consuming another life. The metallic gurgle repeated, this time much closer and Osiryn swiftly went into action.

Like a statue coming to life, he reached for her. The girl squeaked, leaning away from his proximity before he could scoop her up and rush her away. "We need to move," he insisted, keeping his voice down to prevent any echoes.

She continued to lean away, her eyes twisting in a sort of fear he thought he was accustomed to. To her, he was a monster to be feared rather than trusted because of his bright red eyes and blinding white features. He may have looked bare-faced and was more often called such than he would care for, but so was the life of a white turian with white clan face-paint.

"We _have_ to keep going," He hissed, reaching for her again. His hand hovered between them in offering and she stared at it briefly before he caught her gaze hardening. He was fully prepared to argue with her when a more nimble hand wrapped around his own.

It was all the acceptance he needed to swiftly yank her up and into his arms to move. Carrying a human was one of the lightest things he had ever handled and the lack of weight surprised him, but he couldn't stop and consider the implications it meant for her. The Geth were tracking them... or conveniently showing up in the same corridor.

Osiryn's mind raced with his body, processing hallways for their worth, while his feet kept soaring over beams and destroyed transports. It was all he could do to keep the distance between them and the enemy so close behind. Soon, he began recognizing the numbered wards counting down as they grew closer to the Academy and it only spurred his legs to move faster.

"_Keelah_," the girl whispered, tugging on his armored collar to halt him. He skidded, catching his balance against the wall with a surprised grunt as she broke his concentration. Leaning heavily against a charred, but stable wall of the lower wards, he glanced out the seamless window and into another part of the Citadel.

Geth ships hovered over buildings swallowed in flame with bright beams slowly scanning the remains in a search as they travelled back and forth over the Citadel. Explosions trembled the floor beneath them as the monstrous ships fired endlessly into new, unscathed colonies of the wards until all that was left were mounds of dust.

"Why are they attacking now?" She inquired, one hand coming down from it's hold on his collar to cover her mouth as if she would scream. "After all these years of serving as horror stories, they're attacking now."

Osiryn knew that he had no answer and was certain that the other C-Sec officers were in the dark as much as he was. "We need to keep moving," he reminded her, but his eyes couldn't stray from the destruction raining down on the place he called home.

His focus faltered as he was shoved forward by momentum; his armor's shields visibly swirling around him from the impact. He understood the feeling as he spun to see smoke still rising from the head of a Geth's rifle as it lowered to gauge the human and turian in the hallway.

The woman screamed beneath him, gripping once again onto his collar to give it a short jerk in the direction she wanted him to go. He needed no further spurring as he took flight over the disastrous terrain for freedom. His breath expelled in short bursts as he collected energy for a faster escape though he was convinced that there was more than one Geth lingering around their current ward.

"The closer we get to the Presidium, the more Geth there are," she insisted against his shoulder as she shielded herself from the flames that grew too near while he travelled. Osiryn had already accepted the fact and it twisted his gizzard with warning signs blinking behind his eyes.

A few more bullets to the back of his shields sent him soaring forward, his legs crumbling beneath him as physics grappled with the both of them. The girl cried out as she was flung ahead and out of his grasp as he crashed to the ground in a heap of tumbling limbs and muttered curses.

His firing hand reached for the pistol at his hip and he fired a few shots at the Geth's illuminated head. Each time he pulled the trigger, another creative expletive escaped his clenched jaws until the Geth's lights faded; having its frame riddled with holes. Sprawled on his back, he gasped for what little air he had left until he realized the gun was still glaring where the Geth once stood.

"Officer, you okay?" The girl coughed and suddenly she was dragging herself to his side. The ridge of her left eye was starting to swell and she was covered in even more soot, but she smiled weakly at him. "Close call, huh?" she offered with a tired laugh.

"Osiryn," He stated. Mindful of his crest, Osiryn turned his head to study her. Her green gaze softened as she watched him and her scrutiny suddenly relented.

"Ariana," she answered, her smile widening as she offered a wave with a bruised hand. "Shall we keep moving?"

The albino snorted and carefully rolled to his side to push himself up and off the floor. Kneeling down in front of the young woman, he offered her his hand again until another shot rang out in the hallway.

Osiryn had once rolled his eyes when a fellow officer described being shot. The actual aspect of time slowing seemed more like a myth than any sort of truth, but as his mandibles flared at the sudden pain in his throat, Ariana's eyes widened as she reached for him.

His knees shuddered before giving way and suddenly he was on his back again, staring at the burned ceiling without much awareness except for the burning pain in his throat and mouth. Speech felt more like a memory than a reoccurring activity and Osiryn knew he could no longer create words except for the few pained gurgles from air passing bloodied passageways.

More shots followed the first as a battle erupted around him. His head ached as he tried to roll for another attempt at standing until he simply gave in to the survival instincts of lying still.

"Osiryn!" Ariana leaned into his vision and her cold fingers wrapped around his mandibles to keep him steady. He gasped his protest as the pain increased at the stiff position, but she only took the sound as one of agony from the injury. "Oh goddess..."

He watched her eyes scan him, lingering longer on his neck than he would of liked until her gaze hardened without pity or remorse. "Listen up soldier, we need to get up and get moving. You don't have the time to sit around and be lazy in this time of need. Now _get up_!" She lurched to her feet until she was standing stiffly on the strong leg with the other bent to ease the weight.

Before he could protest, she was tugging on his arm to straighten him with her free hand. Dully, he noted his pistol snug firmly in the other with her finger still hovering over the trigger, but he had no energy to ask for it back.

A few more yanks later and Osiryn struggled to stand, his knees wobbling beneath him as his mind sloshed against its confinement. Ariana was there, beneath one shoulder to keep him from failing and he welcomed the support. Her clothes and hands were stained with an odd blue that reflected the light of the flames and Osiryn began to wonder what they had fallen into until he realized it was his own blood she soaked in.

"Stay with me Osiryn, we'll get you out of here," she grunted beneath him, pulling him along until his feet dragged one in front of the other. Her strength was never-ending and he had no will to battle her resolve. Rarely did humans have the gall to order a turian around unless they had the _authority_. A human factory worker was far lower than his own status, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but her bossy attitude seemed natural - a trait that would have worked well as a turian, but not as a human.

"We're getting closer to the Academy," she growled at him and the painful tickle in his throat forced him to shudder a cough full of blood down his chin. He was wary and growing exhausted with each small step he took, but had accepted the sudden urge of inevitability.

She was so fragile beneath him and if he lost the strength to keep pushing one foot before the other, there was little she would be able to do except leave him behind. His armor was extra weight to begin with, but it served what little protection it could for the both of them and even though it was a burden, he was momentarily grateful that he could at least protect their backs from any more Geth.

"You need to lose some weight," Ariana reprimanded him, groaning under his form as he lost more and more feeling to his limbs. If only he could tell her he was trying, but his attempt only encouraged more liquefied coughs to spew around them in sprays of blue.

He began recognizing their surroundings as the stairways to C-Sec and where many of the transports laid in wait. The quiet cries and orderly voices of C-Sec officers organizing the survivors was the last thing he heard until his mind went blank. Beside him, Ariana vibrated and he noted her moving mouth until faces in recognizable blue and black armor came charging up the stairs for him.

They would laugh at this memory, when he was long gone from their stares. How the nearly bare-faced turian required the help of all the officers to get down a flight of stairs.

Suddenly hands were tugging and pulling him away from his charge and into the grip of fellow officers and grunts. He could hear them calling at him, cursing, and drilling Ariana with questions until she was brimming with unused tears as they slowly escorted his limp frame down the flight of stairs into the waiting embrace of the nearest shuttle. One of the officers, a human he had seen often wandering the Academy, quickly settled into the seat next to him while they pushed Ariana and a few more survivors inside.

Osiryn's eyes closed as he battled the heavy need to sleep until someone was smacking his jaw slightly to jarr him back. His vision was immediately filled with Ariana's face as she glared at him intently. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me now," she barked, the surprised glances from the survivors not even breaking her concentration from him.

He wanted to obey, but the pain had become more of a numbing agent... or it was his mind simply reducing the threat to something that was more manageable. His mandibles flared against her palms as he let his mind fade into unconsciousness.

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**And here we stand with one chapter done. This will continue, I promise and we will find out what happens to Osiryn after the attacks. Any comments on this story and Osiryn's personality/character will be welcomed!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-WP  
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